


Over the Rainbow

by TheYmp



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Father Figures, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Heart-to-Heart, Promises, Rainbows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:01:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28253595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheYmp/pseuds/TheYmp
Summary: Sam and Jack in the backyard, pontificating on the whys and wherefores of existence, and so over Chuck.
Relationships: Castiel/Sam Winchester, Jack Kline & Sam Winchester
Kudos: 25
Collections: Supernatural Spring Fling 2020





	Over the Rainbow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saintsammy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintsammy/gifts).



> Written for the 2020 [Supernatural Spring Fling](https://spnspringfling.livejournal.com/) on LiveJournal.  
> Saintsammy's prompts were: _Sastiel, Sam and Jack (gen), "It's a shame knowing we could be good", "rainbow", and "in the garden"._

**_'Whom the gods love dies young' - Herodotus_ **

Sam paused in surprise as he stepped out through the bunker's little-used emergency exit. What had previously been an area of overgrown, viciously sharp brambles, hidden from sight within a small copse of trees, was now a small but thriving garden in the early stages of planting. It was clear that a great deal of work had gone into tending the fledgling beds of plant life.

The ground was barely damp from a recent rain shower, but enough that the pleasant, earthy smell of petrichor hung heavy in the air. Sam could feel tension he hadn't even realized he was carrying ease from his neck and shoulders, alleviated by the calming sensuousness of the surroundings.

"Dean said I'd find you out here," he called gently towards Jack, who was sitting on a battered-looking garden bench that had seen better days, with an array of gardening tools at his feet, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

It was at times like these, Sam considered, that you would swear that Jack was truly Castiel's son. A solid chip off the old block. They had the same mannerisms, the same dorky dress sense, the same propensity for wandering off to ruminate on life's great mysteries. Heck, they even looked similar. Although, in the case of this young man, Sam's feelings were strictly avuncular, if not downright fatherly.

Sam slid in to sit beside Jack on the bench and looked around admiringly. "Wow. This is quite the garden you've created," he said, his voice making it clear how impressed he was. "The last time I came through here, it was an overgrown field waist-high in weeds."

"Waist high for _you_ , maybe," replied Jack slyly after a moment, finally turning to acknowledge Sam's presence. "But for me, there was a moment or two where I thought I might get lost out here forever."

Sam chuckled at that and leaned back, resting his arm loosely across the back of the bench. "Look," he exclaimed, pointing up into the late afternoon sky with his other hand, leaning closer into Jack. "Over there, there's a rainbow."

The young man's gaze followed Sam's gesture, and he nodded with a smile of genuine pleasure at the vividly colored sight. Something opened in Sam's chest, and he wondered at how quickly this young man had found a special place in his heart and in their lives.

"Family don't end with blood, boy." The gruff, heart-felt words spoken many lifetimes ago by Bobby echoed in Sam's mind and had never felt more accurate.

"You know, the Bible says that God put the rainbow in the sky as a sign that he'd never destroy the earth again by flood," said Sam, never one to resist showing affection by sharing an interesting fact.

"So Chuck won't drown us, he's just gonna find some other way to wipe us out?" scoffed Jack. "Way to go, Grandpa, at finding a loophole in that promise!" He shivered as the air itself seemed to cool, and he leaned against Sam's side, letting his head fall back to rest in the crook of Sam's shoulder as he half turned towards him.

"What would you have done with your life, Sam, if you hadn't been a hunter?"

Sam blinked, unsure for a moment how to respond. Jack's easy, unselfconscious displays of affection and direct questions were a world away from his own upbringing with its stilted and codified expressions of familial love.

"Well, I did actually go to college," he said at last. "I'd had a dream of maybe one day being a lawyer."

"Oh, I didn't know that," said Jack sticking out his lower lip as he digested this nugget of information. "So... you were gonna be a monster yourself, instead of fighting them?"

Sam's laugh was surprised out of him. "Hey, when did you get to be so sassy?"

Jack nudged him with his elbow. "I learned from the best."

"I think I imagined there being a lot of pro bono work," answered Sam turning serious for a moment. "Maybe it was the naivety of youth, but I liked the idea of helping people in some more everyday, practical sort of way."

"I don't really know what lawyers are like," admitted Jack, "but there was a show Dean was watching last night that maybe didn't paint them in the best light."

He paused and stared off into the distance again before continuing. "There's a _lot_ of things I don't know. It's not like I even went to school; I mean, I basically skipped the whole growing up thing. If it wasn't for you and Cas, I don't think I'd even know how to read. Hunting's all I know."

"Growing up, Dean protected me from a lot of the worst of hunting life," said Sam. "But it was no picnic, often no food of any kind," he added, grimacing at his poor joke. "It's only in retrospect I realize how often Dean went without food so I could eat."

Even now, so many years later, the thought of Dean's sacrifices evoked in him tangled, complicated feelings of resentful gratitude and pangs of aching, grateful guilt.

"Get this, you might not believe it, but I was actually a small squirt of a kid, and I didn't even really eat that much until I hit a major growth spurt in my mid-teens."

"I'd be more than happy if you wanted to slip me a couple of those extra inches," said Jack. "It might even stop me keep getting a crick in my neck from always looking up at all you tall guys."

Sam spluttered a laugh at the unintentionally smutty double-entendre, deciding that he'd leave Jack thinking it was in response to his latter comment.

"But even without the hunting, we were still dirt poor," Sam added, kicking in emphasis at a small mound of earth that jutted from the grass at his feet. "And that caused its own issues living from day-to-day. Books were my escape, you know?"

"You're talking to someone who jettisoned their childhood to stay safe," replied Jack, archly. "It might seem a mean thing to say, but hearing that you effectively had yours stolen from you, but you still turning out like you are... well, it just seems really comforting that there's hope for me yet."

"Oh, I'm far from a saint," Sam protested.

"I think you'll find you've won the love and admiration of a certain angel around here who'd claim the contrary," argued Jack.

"Yeah, I guess," sighed Sam with a shy smile. "He certainly keeps me honest. He and Dean both." He shivered as the sun began to set below the trees, casting long shadows across the garden. "You know how difficult it is to turn away once you've had a taste of the dark side, it's important to keep people you love and trust close."

Jack nodded. "Does it ever get any easier?"

Sam stared down at his hands. "How 'bout this: if that dark power's gone, how can you ever be sure you wouldn't have strayed down that path again?"

Jack gave a strangled moan of despair. "We never asked for any of this. It's all so unfair."

"That's life," shrugged Sam, not disagreeing but feeling that this complaint had long been hammered out of him by the hard knocks of life.

"I just think that we could've been good," complained Jack. "I could've _been_ something or made something... I don't know... _more_ of my life."

"Only the good die young," said Sam in a voice that was barely a whisper as he was overwhelmed by the unbidden memory of Jack lying dead on the ground, his eyes burned from their sockets. He'd lost so many loved ones, taken bloody and violently before their time.

"...and stay dead," scoffed Jack.

"It's not about being good, it's about always striving to be better," said Sam, giving himself a slight shake and trying to put some pep in his speech. "Sorry, I came out to see what you were doing and check you were okay. I didn't mean to bring down the vibe."

Jack chuckled, "It's fine, really. I mean, when do we ever really get the time to stop and think about this kind of stuff? I guess we have more in common than I thought."

He stood and stretched, turning back to Sam. "I might have my grandpa's bullshit to deal with, but I'm so lucky not to have just one great dad, but three," he declared.

He frowned at Sam's lack of response. In fact, the man seemed to be ignoring him in favor of staring off at something behind them in the flower beds. "Hey, are you even listening to me?"

"Jack, look!" cried Sam, pointing at something moving and churning in the damp earth of the garden.

Mud-coated, vaguely human-shaped beings squirmed their way out of the dirt and shambled towards them. Abominations of earth and stone and clay.

"Formed from clay... I always thought that sounded like such an afterthought," said Jack weakly, backing away from the creatures, and in no doubt as to whom had conjured them.

Sam jumped to his feet, grabbing a shovel from the ground in one fluid move and, with a single devastating blow, swiped off the head of one of the creatures.

"Enough talk for now," he ordered, tossing the spade to Jack, bending to retrieve another for himself.

"There's no rest for the wicked," he grinned.

**THE END**

(;,;)


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